


This Love

by jibthedragon



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, possible Fluff and Smut, post winter soldier, two 90 year old men try to fall in love again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:32:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jibthedragon/pseuds/jibthedragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers has been looking for Bucky ever since Bucky saved him from the water. Then one day Bucky finds Steve.<br/>Old emotions rise, memories try to come back, and Steve tries to fix broken Bucky.</p><p>An unoriginal post-Winter Soldier fic with fluff and heartbreaking angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"This love is good, this love is bad_  
 _This love is alive back from the dead_  
 _These hands had to let it go free_  
 _And this love came back to me."_

-Taylor Swift, _This Love_

* * *

 

It's been four months since I fell out of that helicarrier and into the bay. Four months since I last saw Bucky. Sam has been helping me, occasionally Natasha will pitch in, but that's once in a blue moon. She gets weird whenever Bucky is mentioned.

I've looked everywhere I could think of. I've spent countless hours at the exhibit. I've flown to Brooklyn. Hell, I've even spent weeks in Russia. Anywhere he could think of, I've gone.

I'm tired. And out of ideas. I just don't know what to do anymore. I just want to help him. I need to help him. He's out wandering around doing God knows what. He's probably so confused and lost and he has no one to guide him like I had.

I've been racking my brain for so long, lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. I should probably get up and go for a run. Maybe I'll call Sam. There's a new movie out I might go see. I dunno, just anything to stop thinking about Bucky.

Tossing my legs out from under the quilt that did very little to keep the heat under it, I padded over to the curtains, pulled them open, and then popped the window open to let in some fresh air. The sunlight was warm; I closed my eyes and inhaled. This was a good day.

Turning from the window, I grabbed a shirt from my dresser and made my way into the kitchen. I heard some purring coming from my sofa.

“Good morning, Daisy,” I smiled as my little tabby looked up at me with her one eye and meowed. I’ve had her for 3 months since I found her in an alley, meowing faintly and looking horribly malnourished. She looks so much better now. Daisy stood, stretched, and then hopped down off her special spot and weaved between my legs. I poured some food in the dish next to her always-available water dish. She practically smiled at me as she dug in.

I heated some coffee I had made the night before and poured it into a mug Natasha had given me last Christmas. It was a custom mug of a screenshot she had taken of my butt from a news broadcast during the alien invasion Loki caused. I refuse to admit that it’s my favorite mug.

I slumped down on the sofa, coffee mug in hand, next to Daisy’s special spot, and a moment later she was right next to me with her non-stop purring. She plopped her head on my thigh as I glanced down at all the files and information I had on Bucky spread out on my coffee table. Sighing, I ran my hand down my face and rested my head on the back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling again. It's becoming a habit.

It was silent for a long time except for Daisy’s never-ending purring and the faint sound of the bustle of the city outside. Then a knock at the door tore me away from my thoughts. I hadn’t called Sam yet, Natasha was with Clint somewhere in the Bahamas, and I had no idea where the rest of the Avengers were; I hoped to God it wasn’t Fury. I peeled myself off the sofa—much to Daisy’s dismay, and didn’t bother looking through the peephole since a few neighborhood punks spray-painted every door’s peephole in my apartment building with black paint.I opened the door, shield right beside it in case anything goes wrong, and there was a man.

His head was tilted down, the top of a navy blue baseball cap pointed at my face. His hair was long, greasy, and tangled, and there was some serious stubble on his face from what I could tell. He wore a black hoodie, sweatpants, and oddly out of place combat boots. And that’s when I saw it. A glint from the end of his sleeve and the beginning of the pocket he had his hand jammed in. An inch of gleaming, silver metal. My breath caught in my throat and I felt my pulse rise. He was right here in front of me.

“Bucky…”

He looked up at me and blue eyes bore right through me. He was glaring at me with such intensity. He said nothing. Bucky looked like an absolute mess. We stood there for a minute or two just staring at each other, both not daring to make a move. I was afraid if I did anything wrong, he’d run and I’d never see him again. The thought that he could attack me at any moment barely crossed my mind. That’s when Daisy interrupted our staring contest by meowing and weaving through my legs and against Bucky. She rubbed her head against his shin and Bucky tensed up.

“Daisy, come back inside,” I glanced down at her before returning my gaze to Bucky. He was staring at her as she ignored me and continued rubbing against his shins and weaving through his legs. “Um, do you wanna come in?” I said as I stepped out of his way.

He hesitated, said nothing, and then came inside. Daisy’s green eye looked up at me and she jumped up towards me; I caught her in my arms and closed the door.

* * *

I had poured a cup of coffee for Bucky, and it was sitting on the coffee table on top of some magazine Natasha was reading last time she was over here. Bucky had taken a seat in the armchair across from my place on the couch with Daisy beside me. He said nothing and just stared at the floor with his hands clasped together in his lap. Neither of us spoke.

I was staring at him just trying to take everything in. I hadn’t gotten this chance since I saw him for the first time after the train. Of course he had the metal arm, but he had also gotten larger in size. He was taller and somewhat more bulky thank I remember him. His hair was shoulder length now and he was one missed shave away from having a full-on beard.

The only thing that was the same was his eyes, but even then, they’re still not quite the same. His blue eyes that used to be so full of life and potential and love are now dulled and lifeless and lost and staring disturbingly intently at the coffee sitting on the table.

I didn’t know what to say to him. What do you say to someone who used to be so close to you but who you now no longer fully know? I can’t ask him how he’s been or chat about the weather. If we were back in the forties again, I could’ve just leaned against him and the silence would’ve said everything I couldn’t. But this isn’t the forties and he’s not the same Bucky and I’m not the same Steve.

I could ask him where’s he’s been since the helicarrier fight. I could ask him if he was really the one to pull me from the water. So I did, or at least I started to.

“Bucky, um—”

“Is that my name?” His voice cut through mine despite it being quiet. He didn’t speak loudly or look up at me. He still stared at the coffee, but he had begun rubbing his metal thumb over his flesh hand. He sounded so unsure and weary. I felt my heart get caught in my throat; _what did they do to him?_ I thought.

“Yea. Yes, it is. James Buchanan Barnes actually.” I offered a faint smile, and he glanced up for the first time since he walked in. Where I expected to see at least a flash of recognition, I saw nothing but two dull blue orbs boring a hole through me. He’s so far gone. I felt sick.

He murmured his name under his breath as if trying out a foreign word. I glanced down at his hands; he was still rubbing his metal thumb over his flesh hand. I wondered if it had hurt—the attaching of his new arm. I know it probably did. I tried my best not to imagine Bucky screaming in pain as they connected his nerves to the cold metal. I had to force myself not to cry.

How could they have done that to Bucky? I should’ve been there to save him. He was my best friend! He is my best friend. He was always there for me, always. Why couldn’t I have been there for him just this once?

I exhaled. When I looked up from his hands, my eyes were locked with his. He had stopped staring at the coffee and had now focused his gaze on me. It was the first time in a long time I had felt small—like I was still that scrawny kid in Brooklyn. I had been slouching for a few minutes now, but I made no move to straighten my back because I didn’t want to have it seem like I was trying to intimidate him. I don’t want that. I want him to remember me, to be relaxed around me again.

“Wh-Why do you look at me like you know me?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, unsure. He had a hard time forming the words, like this was his first civil conversation in a lifetime.

His question hurt me. He should remember why I look at him like I know him. He should remember that we were best friends for years. That we were soldiers together. That I loved him.

“Because I do know you, Bucky. I-We have known each other for a long time.”

“Not from our fights though.” He had looked away from me and back to the table.

“No, not from our fights.”

“I went there. To the museum. It said James Buchanan Barnes died. That he was the only ‘Howling Commando’ to give his life in the line of duty. I’m not dead.” As he spoke, I closed my eyes and looked toward the ceiling. I missed his voice more than I thought, even as shaky and quiet as it was.

“No, you’re not dead. We thought you were though. You fell out of a—nevermind. We thought you had died protecting me.” This was not the time to say he fell out of the train and that we lost him cause I couldn’t save him. I don’t want to trigger anything right now. He was talking to me finally. This is good.

I heard him inhale sharply, “Protecting you?” And when I looked up at him, there was faint hint of something in his eyes. They were slightly less dull.

I was about to say something when my phone rang. The sudden noise had shocked us both, except Daisy, and I saw his eyes return back to their dull state as he stared down. I sighed once more as I got up to retrieve my phone—I was tempted to let it ring, but the last time I had done that, the rest of the Avengers showed up and I got reprimanded for making them worry. Apparently they expected me to always answer my phone no matter what.

When I found my phone in my bedroom, I saw it was Sam. I gripped the phone in my hand before glancing to my doorway, hoping Bucky wouldn’t leave, and then glancing back to the phone as I answered it.

“Sam?”

“Hey, Steve, I was wondering if you wanna go see that movie I was telling you about? The next showing is at five, if you wanna come.”

I wanted to go with Sam, but I wanted to stay with Bucky more, if he was even still here. “I can’t today. I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I probably should clean my house before going out at all anyways. If you change your mind, just give me a call.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that.” I said as I heard Daisy meow from the living room.

Sam paused for a second, “Dude, you ok?” Dammit, Sam. He must have heard the faint shift in my voice when Daisy meowed.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I swear. I’m just tired.” I wasn’t ready to tell him I had found Bucky, or, well, Bucky found me.

“Right. Sure, I’ll believe it. If you wanna talk about whatever it is, you can always call. I’m here for you, man.”

I smiled, “Thanks. I’ve gotta go, but we’ll talk later. Bye.”

“Yea. Bye.” And we hung up. The instant I dropped my phone and ran to the living room. My heart dropped into my stomach—he wasn’t there. I whispered his name under my breath. I started looking around frantically—I would not lose him again. I shouted his name. Then I bolted to the front door and yanked it open.

I inhaled and my breath caught. I hadn’t felt relief like this in so many years. He was sitting there, knees pulled to his chest, leaning against the railing, facing my door. I looked down at him as he stared at the ground.

“I don’t know where to go.” That’s all he said.

“You always will have a place here with me, Buck. If you want to come inside again, you can.” Daisy, once more, weaved through my legs and padded outside. She put her front paws on Bucky’s arm and meowed in his ear before nudging his cheek with her head. I swear if I hadn’t known Bucky as long as I did, I never would have caught the slight change in his expression that hinted at a smile I couldn't see.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets a room, Steve dreams, and Bucky remembers his mission.

_"Lost and insecure_  
 _You found me, you found me_  
 _Lyin' on the floor_  
 _Surrounded, surrounded_  
 _Why'd you have to wait?_  
 _Where were you? Where were you?_  
 _Just a little late  
_ _You found me, you found me."_

-The Fray, _You Found Me_

* * *

 

Bucky didn’t speak again when he came back inside. He only sat back in his previous seat, clutching and petting Daisy, with a blank expression. I closed the door and leaned against it and stayed that way for—I don’t know how long. After a while, I went into the kitchen for food. I realized I hadn’t eaten all day. I wondered what Bucky had eaten last, or when he had eaten last.

“Hey, do you-um, do you want anything to eat?” I opened the fridge and the cool air swept over me for a brief second.

There was a long pause. I thought he just wouldn’t reply, but after a minute or two he mumbled “Yes.”

A strange wave of happiness washed over me; “Okay. Is there anything you want?”

“It…doesn’t matter.” His voice was still quiet, and he wouldn’t look at me. He just kept on petting Daisy who looked like she was having the time of her life.

“Alright, just give me a second,” I turned my back from him and decided steak would be good.

* * *

Bucky had eaten still sitting in that chair, and I sat at the counter, watching him. Daisy had used this opportunity while Bucky was busy eating to disappear to her litter box in the bathroom for a bit. It was then that I realized the only main source of sound had been her purring.

When Bucky had finished eating, he set the plate down on the coffee table and picked Daisy back up. I was glad they got along. I set my plate in the sink and resumed examining Bucky. It had been so long since I was able to just watch him quietly and stilly like I used to.

I resisted the urge to sketch his still figure. I decided I would draw him later when he wouldn’t see me.

It was getting dark. Daisy yawned and she turned her head towards me. As much as she appeared to love Bucky, Daisy was a lazy cat and she always went to sleep on my bed right as the sun went down.

This brought the thought of the sleeping situation. I had a guest bedroom, but it was filled with canvases and easels. I hoped he would be fine with that.

“Um, you’re staying right? Cos, if-if you are, I have a spare bedroom, but it’s a bit cluttered.” It was foreign to me that I would even need to suggest a spare bedroom to Bucky. If I had done that back in the forties, he would’ve laughed or said _“Don’t be stupid, Steve.”_ And we would’ve slept in the same bed together. I sighed and rubbed my face. I missed Bucky so much, and I was ecstatic when he came back, but I can’t touch him anymore or laugh with him or do anything we used to together.

I looked at Bucky and my eyes met his. His mouth was parted slightly but no sound came out. Then, something did come out.

“You’d let me stay while you slept? You trust me that much?” Bucky’s voice was more level now. My heart dropped into my stomach at the fact he would even feel the need to ask.

“Of course. Like I said, you always have a place here.” I tried a reassuring smile, but he looked away and back at Daisy. “I can show you the room. It’s a mess, but I’ll clean it tomorrow if you want.”

Bucky stood after setting Daisy down. She stretched and followed him as he followed me down the hall. The guest room was right across from mine. I opened the door and turned on the light. The walls were a tan color and brown curtains hung over the windows. The bedspread matched the curtains and there were some orange and red pillows as well. An empty dresser with a mirror above it sat opposite the bed. There as a wicker nightstand with a lamp on top of it to the right of the bed. But the majority of the room was filled with canvases. Some were blank, some weren’t. A painting of Peggy sat below the window, and a large painting of Bucky in his old military uniform sat beside it. Bucky walked into the room and inhaled.

“You’d let me stay here?”

“All yours. I’ll move the canvases and easels out of here tomorrow.”

“No. I mean, leave them.” He locked eyes with the painting of himself and felt my cheeks turn pink. He was never meant to see it.

“O-okay.”

* * *

Bucky didn’t come out of his room. Daisy moved in with him. I went into my room and flopped down on the bed. A smile broke across my face. _I had Bucky back. Yea, he’s not the same, but he’s here with me and I can keep him safe. I won’t let another bad thing happen to him again._

Warmth spread throughout me at the thought he was safe just across the hall.

That warmth and the hope that I can help Bucky and the darkness of the evening lulled me to sleep.

* * *

_It was 1943 again. Bucky was at the bar chatting up a girl while I sat alone at our table. She was really pretty—long auburn hair that fell straight down her back, big blue eyes, tan skin, and, as was most important to Bucky, a full chest._

_I felt a pang of irritation. I looked away from that scene and back at the dancers and people enjoying themselves around the club. There was stunning woman singing onstage with a shining gold dress and red heels. She looked around six feet tall in those things. Her voice was smooth and sultry as her words carried around the room. Couples were slow dancing in front of me, and I wished Bucky would let me drink more. I could sneak another without him knowing, but he’d find out. He always does._

_Bucky suddenly appeared next to me with a scotch in hand. The girl was nowhere around him. He almost always does this when slow songs come on. He’ll just ditch who he was with and comes and sits next to me. I’ve told him numerous times that he doesn’t have to do it. He just chuckles and brushes it off._

_“Steve, let’s go home.” Bucky muttered as he brought the scotch to his lips._

_“She turn you down?” I joked. No girl would turn Bucky down. I knew that._

_“Of course not. She just didn’t suit my fancy. C’mon, let’s go,” he set the amber drink down and rose from his seat. I nodded and rose as well._

_We walked side-by-side together all the way back to my place._

* * *

  _I took off my coat and Bucky did the same. He was going on about something to do with the women nowadays. It was cold outside, so I was cold, and I didn’t care what he was saying. I went into the kitchen and grabbed some cheap tea from the cupboards. As the water in the kettle heated up, Bucky was still going on about the women. I don’t know how he was able to talk about girls for so long. I caught something about someone’s ass, but I really didn’t care._

_The kettle drowned out his ramblings until I poured the water into some cups with the tea bags in them. I turned the heat off and set the kettle back down. Then, I felt warm arms wrap around my small torso. I inhaled as he started to whisper in my ear._

_“Stevie, are you listening to me?” His breath was hot against my ear causing goose bumps to rise._

_“Of course, Buck.” It was a lie._

_“Yeah? What was the last thing I said?” I could hear the smile in his voice as his arms wrapped tighter around me and his hands lowered on my body._

_“I don’t know, Buck. Could you-um, could you not touc-”_

_“I said you had a nice ass, because you do,” his hands gripped my ass and I let out a small squeak. He was in one of those moods again. He would get like this occasionally when he didn’t leave with a woman on his arm._

_“Bucky, can you not-y’know, use me for this?” I never liked when he would do this just because of an uneventful night. I felt him tense at my words and his arms were removed from around me. All the warmth he was providing left me. I closed my eyes and exhaled. Then I heard him speak, but his words were quiet and rushed._

_“Use you? Steve,” he turned me around to face him and pressed me up against the counter, “I could’ve left with that girl. I almost did, but as we were kissing, I accidently said Stevie. Her name was Lyla.” His hands were pressed firmly on my hips, holding me in place. “I apologized to her and left to go to you.”_

_I inhaled and let out a shuddery breath. “Buck, shut up. Th-the tea’s getting cold.”_

_“Steve, I’ve said it before, I love you. Just you. You know why I go with women; you understand, right?” Bucky stooped to my height and pressed his lips to mine the way he had done a hundred times before. I closed my eyes and felt his calloused hands come up and cup the sides of my face._

_He pulled away, eyes still closed, and rested his forehead on mine; “You’re the only one who’s ever done this to me.” He said as he took one of my hands and rested it on his chest. His heart was racing against my palm. He opened his eyes and just stared at me. “I love you, Steve. I’ll say it as much as I need to,” he gave me a slight smile as his eyebrows went up in an apologetic way._

_He was the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen, and I’m the luckiest guy to have him love me. I knew that. He’s the best friend I love with all my heart. In a bold move on my part after several seconds of silence, I pressed my lips to his and I felt his grip on my hand tighten slightly before becoming relaxed again. He took the lead in the kiss, as he always tended to do, as he dropped my hand and pushed up my shirt, running his hands over my chest._

_Bucky’s tongue slipped into my mouth, and I let out the most embarrassing noise. My breathing quickened before his did, of course. I had to grip the edge of the counter to balance myself as Bucky pressed up closer. He took one of the hands he was teasing my chest with and ran it down to the hem of my pants and undid my belt._

_He was still kissing me, occasionally allowing me to breathe, but it wasn’t enough time. That, plus the heat from his body and still-warm stove causing me to become too hot, made me unable to breathe. I prayed not to have an asthma attack right now, please, not now._

_Bucky pulled away and furrowed his brows when I was taking short, quick breaths; “Steve, you ok? We need to take a break?” He was always so considerate and patient, and I thanked my lucky stars for him._

_My breath came in quick, rapid breaths. Dammit. I couldn’t breathe. Bucky held me up so I didn’t fall. I didn’t want to stop doing this with Bucky right now, but I had to. It hurt to breathe. It felt like someone’s hands were around my neck. There was such a force. It hurt so much. So much more than it usually did…_

* * *

 My eyes snapped open and there was Bucky on top me on my bed. His hands were gripping tight around my throat. I was coughing and gagging with tears running from the sides of my eyes. I grabbed his hands in an attempt to pry them off me. His metal hand was somewhat warm because of the heat emanating from my skin. I managed to get his hands a little bit off, but he tightened his grip and pressed harder.

I coughed and stuttered his name. His eyes were back to those dull orbs. He was back to is Winter Soldier mindset. The mindset that required him to complete his mission.

It was getting harder to breathe. If he hadn’t latched on while I was sleeping, I could’ve stopped him. But now, there was nothing I could do. I was helpless for the first time in a long time. I gave up trying to pry his hands away. Instead, I reached up and cupped his face in my hands. If I was going to die soon, at least I could still feel him with my own hands.

Bucky’s face wasn’t smooth like it used to be. It was rough and scratchy from his almost-beard. But his skin was the same. Pale. Soft. Warm. I missed him so much. If I could breathe, I would’ve cried. I love him so much.

His eyes slightly widened at the gentle gesture after I passed his neck and held his face instead of fighting back. His gripped released slightly. Then Daisy came into the room. She hopped up on my bed and, completely unaware of the fact I was being killed, licked my cheek.  She sat beside my head and placed a paw on Bucky’s hand. She looked up at him and meowed.

“B-Bucky, ple-please stop,” It came out barely a whisper. His eyes widened as far as they would widen. He let go of my neck slowly, then quickly snapped his arms away from me. Bucky backed away and fell of the edge of the bed but kept on scooting farther from till he pressed up against the dresser and could go no farther. He drew his knees up to nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

I gasped for air and inhaled as much air as I could take in and propped myself up on my elbows. I looked down at Bucky who was shuddering and drawing in shaky breaths. He had taken off his sweatshirt and wore an undershirt and his sweatpants. If the situation were different, I would’ve smiled.

“Bucky, you alright?” I said as my hands cradled my definitely-going-to-be-bruised neck.

He softly shook his head; “How can you ask that…? I just… I just tried to kill you.” His voice was shaky. I wasn’t angry at him when I saw him sitting there, broken and guilty. I was angry with Hydra. They wouldn’t stand a chance once I started tearing them apart for what they’ve done to him.

“I know why you did it. It’s not your fault. You’re still Bucky; you’re still my best friend.” I tried to sound as comforting as possible. I wanted nothing more than to hold him in my arms, nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright and that I love him. Instead of doing that, I stayed seated where I was and stared at him through still-watery eyes and said: “Bucky, I forgive you. For everything.”

Bucky stiffened and I thought I heard him choke back a cry. He quickly rose from his spot on the floor and went out of my room, disappearing into his room. Daisy tried to follow but when she scratched at his door and meowed repeatedly, he didn’t open it for her. She eventually came back to me, curled up at her spot at the foot of the bed, and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you all are enjoying this fic so far!  
> I just wanted to clarify the line breaks. Line breaks only appear in my story when there's a time skip or transition between scenes, like when it went from Steve's dream to reality.
> 
> That's all! :)


End file.
